


a thousand kisses

by loki (lokigurl)



Category: Roswell (TV)
Genre: Ficlet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-05-30
Updated: 2011-05-30
Packaged: 2017-10-19 22:04:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/205700
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lokigurl/pseuds/loki
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>some things are stronger than destiny</p>
            </blockquote>





	a thousand kisses

You panic every time your phone rings. Especially when you see his number. Rarely ever is it a simple hello, but rather a frantic burst of words.

 _He’s found something. Someone’s after him. He’s leaving town for a while but he’ll call soon._

One of these days you fear that it’ll be a quiet, disembodied voice echoing “Goodbye, I love you.”

You hope he’ll be able to say “I love you.”

You hope he’ll be able to call.

It’s been a long time since you spent your days planning the most subtle way to run into him at school. You no longer brush against him, fingertips nervously lingering over his palm. Nor do you stare up at him with baited breath, praying, “dear god, just this once let him kiss me. Kiss me.” Now you’re welcome to all the touches you want – light, feathery caresses, desperate longing clutches – but you miss the need and the way your body would tense in anticipation at the mere sight of him. Even if seconds later it would crumble with disappointment.

Untouched.

A thousand kisses later and the disappointment of a delayed kiss seems so silly now. Childish, like how your kindergarten squabbles were laughable a few years ago. You wonder if you’ll ever be free to wrap yourself in such inconsequential dilemmas again. Maria says that she doesn’t feel like she’s become the person she was meant to be. That she barely recognizes the person in the mirror. Like, you’ve been in some sort of crash course on change. It’s not that you are shells of former selves, instead have been reborn as completely different people. Once upon a time you had dreams of being a famous scientist, respected and renowned for changing the world.

You’ve changed it, all right, but not in the way you expected. You’re not even sure that you’ve done the right things most of the time. When you let yourself think about that, well, you try not to.

You miss your dreams.

You miss yourself.

You miss Maria.

You miss the way you’d drive around aimlessly, screeching along with the radio and giggling about the boys you liked. Now you always have a destination in mind, music is too distracting and the boys in your lives became men.

You’re not sure if you’re ready to be a woman yet.

Maria is right, you didn’t sign up for this. Didn’t sign up for your lives to be twisted upside down. Or for your hearts to be broken, smashed and carefully healed back together – everything sewn along the tears with wispy threads of silk and left spinning on the edge of a table, waiting to lose momentum and fall.

But you’ve got a life to be twisted, a heart to be broken. You almost lost that and Max Evans got it back for you. Chased it down and carried it in the palm of his hand, pushed it into you. Max Evans saved you a thousand kisses ago.

No matter how many times he stands at the window and peers in, Max always seems just a little nervous like maybe he’s expecting another replay of that day. Expecting another gun to go off. There have been a lot of guns since that first one, weapons of all kinds, actually. You’ve had to run for your life – a life that you have yet to fully understand the purpose but appreciate the value of since Max laid his hands on you.

You’ve run for his without a second thought.

You know he feels guilty about putting you in danger. For pretty much exposing Michael and Isabel to the world. Each day, he walks a little slower, the weight pressing down on him heavier and heavier. You listen to his laboured breaths as you lie together and curl yourself around him. He clings to your body, burying his face in your shoulder, seeking forgiveness but afraid to ask.

You just silently pet his hair and try to think about anything else. Sometimes you succeed.

But when Max looks up and you see his face, worried and desperate and beautiful, you don’t think about the life you thought you was going to have. Not about the dreams that once meant everything to you, or the laughter that no longer comes so easily. You only feel his hands pushing precious life into you, and you remember why you wear your scars so proudly.

Your thumbs press into his cheekbones, slide over his skin. Maria’s voice echoes in your head:

 _“Max Evans is staring at you again.”_


End file.
